


detonator

by autisticlalna (mathonwys)



Series: casting a shadow (Shadow People AU) [5]
Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: (for real this time!), (most of that is in chapter 2.), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Living Shadows, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Recovery, Shadow People AU, discussion of trauma, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-27 23:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathonwys/pseuds/autisticlalna
Summary: "Doc stood in the same spot as in his memory, staring blankly at the wreckage he’d never bothered to patch up. It wasn’t the redstone that had malfunctioned. Not here, and not at Sahara. The Architechs seemed to think it was an accident, and it was– just not the type of accident they were thinking of."After the accident at Sahara, the Architechs call in Doc to let him know his shadow has gone missing. Doc realizes he's seen this before... and that he's going to have to talk to his shadow before it's too late. (Direct sequel to "power surge".)(written for the Shadow People AU by mine-sara-sp on tumblr!)





	1. countdown

**Author's Note:**

> STILL ON THIS TRAIN, CHOO CHOO
> 
> this should HOPEFULLY be the last shadow person au fic i put out for a bit! i dont want to burn myself out, and also im... not actually that much of a writer? at least, im normally not the type to slam out fics back-to-back like this.
> 
> in case its not obvious, doc's shadow is my fav character to write about in this au, especially his relationship w/ doc! i also really want to give these guys a happy ending, its just... gonna take a bit to get there first.
> 
> pardon my inability to write keralis, i really tried you guys

He knows he’s in trouble. Sooner or later, the Architechs are going to put two and two together. Sooner or later, they’re going to realize that it wasn’t just an overclocked circuit or a damaged comparator that started the chain reaction that wiped out all of Sahara’s redstone in less than an hour. Sooner or later, the Architechs are going to find out it was him.

Doc’s shadow found a corner of the New Village, as far away from any redstone as he could manage, and huddled up out of sight while he awaited for the inevitable moment where everything would go wrong.

Thousands of blocks away, on the main island, Doc checked the chat messages with a frown. Something had happened at Sahara. It wasn’t too unusual, really; Sahara was famous for being buggy or broken or delayed, no matter how hard the redstone-inclined members of the Architechs tried to keep it operational. Still, Iskall had sent him a message asking him to come by and survey the damage. He’d promised to explain more as soon as Doc arrived, and hadn’t responded to Doc pressing him for more details.

The entire situation was giving him bad vibes. Why would Iskall single him out? Sure, he was a capable redstoner and could certainly help debug if given a good enough reason to, but the phrasing Iskall used suggested far more than just needing a second opinion. Doc opened his elytra and rocketed up into the sky, then eased into a glide as the shopping district came into view.

Oh.

Even from the air, it was easy to see what the problem was. The building was badly damaged; part of it had outright collapsed, and Grian was in the middle of building a “do not cross” line out of yellow and black wool to cordon off the area. It didn’t do much to stop Doc as he flew over it and landed near Sahara’s entrance. “Wow, Grian, I never thought you’d stoop so low.”

“I didn’t do it!” Grian sputtered. The notorious prankster spun around to glare at him; Doc responded with a deep chuckle, not in the least fazed by Grian’s anger. “I wasn’t even _ here_! I had a day off and was in Hermitland when suddenly Iskall and Mumbo are messaging me and telling me Sahara blew up!” The teasing grin vanished from Doc’s face.

“So… who did it, then? Was it sabotage?” He crossed his arms. “I thought you were a detective.”

Grian shook his head. “Now’s not the time for that, Docson, I don’t even have my scarf. Here, you’d better talk to Iskall, he’s inside. Go on, shoo! I’m building a perimeter!”

Doc obliged, and left Grian to his work. The thought of Grian’s shadow being behind Sahara’s destruction crossed his mind, if Grian himself wasn’t, but he waved it off; as much as the sadistic little bastard would no doubt find a lot of joy in destroying something his summoner had worked so hard on, Grian hadn’t summoned it in a while. Grian may not be the best at decisions all the time, but even he knew his shadow was too dangerous to let run free.

Something grabbed him by the lapels of his lab coat and yanked him through the doorway. “Gah--!” Oh, great, it was Mumbo’s shadow. The mob, silent as always, looked at him with relief that switched to an angry glare as soon as it recognized him. “Mumbo! Make him let go of me!”

“Murmur! Did you find him?” Mumbo’s voice called out, followed quickly by footsteps. The other two members of Architechs both skidded into the room, only for Mumbo to deflate. “Oh, it’s just Doc.”

“Do you mind telling me what happened here?” If Sahara looked bad from the outside, it looked even worse on the inside. Anywhere there had been a redstone component looked like it had been hit with TNT; the sheer scope of the disaster was far more than one of Grian’s pranks gone wrong. “If you called me here to ask me to fix it, uh, I’m not sure where to start.”

Iskall shook his head. “No, see, about that… We’re still questioning Grian’s alibi, but there was a malfunction in Sahara’s redstone. But that’s not why I called you here.” He shot Mumbo a pointed look. Doc noted that Iskall was favouring one of his shoulders; the side of his face was red and scratched up, like he’d been hit by shrapnel, and his suit was still faintly smoking at the hem. Mumbo himself looked rather disheveled, although not on the same level as Iskall; they must’ve been trying to fix the issue when the explosions happened.

Mumbo avoided Iskall’s look. “There weren’t any customers in Sahara at the time, but...” He wrung his hands. “Your shadow was here.”

Doc’s blood ran cold. His shadow? In Sahara? In maybe the most redstone-intensive build on the entire server? “Why?” Mumbo’s shadow had let go of him, but he couldn’t miss it shooting Mumbo a glare on the same level as the one he’d received. Doc shook his head. “Is-- Is it okay? Where is it now?” No response. This time, it was Iskall’s time to look guilty as Doc rounded on him. “_Where is it?_”

“We don’t know,” Iskall admitted. “Murmur found him having a panic attack. We got him out of here, but after we turned our backs on him he was gone.” Murmur illustrated Iskall’s point by vanishing; Doc looked down to see the shadow mob doing a good job imitating the natural shadow he was casting thanks to the sunlight streaming in through the broken ceiling. “We thought you should know.”

Doc exhaled hard. Great. Now his shadow was missing. As if things couldn’t get any worse. “Anything else?” he said after a long, uncomfortable silence. Murmur rose back up out of the floor and beckoned for Doc to follow it. Confused, he looked to Mumbo; Mumbo cleared his throat, then kept pace with his shadow as the other two trailed along behind them.

What had once held Sahara’s high-tech redstone circuitry was now empty save for rubble and some remaining components. Doc passed by a bit of wool still burning and nearly tripped over a half-dismantled observer before the Architechs came to a stop at the center of the blast zone.

“The thing is,” Mumbo said cautiously, “he was, uh… He was in here. Like Iskall said, he was having a panic attack before we got to him, and then suddenly everything started going wrong… Murmur was able to calm him down when all the explosions stopped, thankfully, but by then, well.” He gestured at the scenery. “I’ve already asked a few other hermits to be on the lookout for him while we get to rebuilding, but… Doc? Doc, hello? Are you listening?”

Doc stared at the destruction around him with a blank thousand-yard stare. Mumbo’s words faded into background noise as gears started turning in his head. A memory surfaced, fished out by the Architechs’ accounts of the disaster: the first time he’d seen his shadow since he’d discovered he was sapient. The first time he’d begun to fully comprehend the damage he’d done. The first time he’d begun to comprehend the damage his shadow could do.

[ _ Doc wasn’t allowed around his shadow anymore. He accepted that. He avoided places he knew his shadow might be, kept a respectful distance from the hermits looking after it at the time, withstood the glares and stares and distrust from his friends that couldn’t believe he could do such a thing. _

_ Some of them understood the situation. None of them had expected the shadows to be intelligent; everyone had assumed the shadows were just another hostile mob, that their anger and evolved combat from being resummoned was just the mobs learning tactics, not a sign of something deeper. Doc hadn’t been the only one building deathtraps, either; this had all started because of Tango’s failed farm, although none of them had gone as far as he had. _

_ He’d killed his shadow, over and over, without reprieve. He’d found every limit, every weakness, every way to dispatch of a shadow as easily and efficiently as possible; he’d spent hours, maybe even days, building and testing traps. It was just the same as when the hermits had learned how to build iron farms, or guardian farms-- exchanging blueprints, testing mechanisms, getting wrapped up so tight in it that they forgot to take breaks, some of them even forgetting to eat or sleep until they were done. Doc had laughed at the first message saying a fellow hermit had been killed by phantoms, then fled underground once his own flock of physical nightmares started dive-bombing him. _

_ He couldn’t go to that corner of Area 77 anymore. He could, physically: it wasn’t blocked off, even though he’d considered the idea, and no doubt Keralis had taken a peek at it before. But even looking in the direction of where he’d spent so long building and designing and testing on a mob that he never gave a chance to run, to tell him to stop, dragged him down into a deep pit of self-hate he’d struggle to climb back out of. _

_ One day, Doc had made up his mind that he was going to tear everything down, make sure they could never be used again. There was no point in having dark reminders laying around. _

_ He hadn’t expected to find his own shadow standing there. _]

“I need to go,” Doc said, slapping away the hand Mumbo had been waving in front of his face. “I’m sorry about your redstone; I’ll see if I can spare anything to help rebuild. It’s.. it’s my fault.” Mumbo and Iskall exchanged startled looks. “Uh-- bye.”

“Wait--” Mumbo went to grab him, but Doc fired a rocket and shot himself straight up, out through the hole in Sahara’s roof, and soared off into the distance, leaving the Architechs stunned and confused. There was more he should have said, more he should have explained, but there was no time. He told himself he’d tell the others later, after he’d worked all of this out. There was no point in causing more panic than there already was.

He didn’t want it to be true. Every part of him was wishing that maybe the Architechs had made a mistake, had mistaken someone else’s shadow for his, but he knew it was futile. The way Murmur had grabbed him like it’d been expecting someone else that looked like him, the way Mumbo and Iskall had reacted to his arrival-- there was no other picture that could be painted from that. Like it or not, his shadow was involved. The pieces kept lining up.

Would his shadow be at Area 77 again? He doubted it. Doc made the trip anyway; if nothing else, it was a good starting point. There were a lot of places on the server where a shadow could hide. Even with hermits scouring the server from top to bottom, it could be forever until they finally found him. Xisuma could help, maybe, but the shadows were mobs rather than players; teleports or pin-pointing coordinates didn’t really work when there were several shadows roaming the server at any given time.

He’d just have to trust his instincts.

[ _ His shadow stood still. For a moment, Doc couldn’t really believe it was really there; there was no explanation in his head for why his shadow would be back here, and it hadn’t tripped any of the proximity alarms. But, unmistakably, it was his shadow: a perfect copy of him, solid black, surrounded by glittering yellow particles that drifted about like motes of dust in a shaft of sunlight. _

_ It wasn’t really a perfect copy, though. Its hair was messier, its lab coat in worse shape; the few times he’d glimpsed it before now, it had a permanently terrified expression on its face, and he’d heard the other hermits talk about it in quiet tones, like they were afraid of scaring it. The shadows were a reflection of their summoners, in one way or another. Doc didn’t want to think about what side of him his shadow was supposed to be. _

_ The two stood there, silent. Doc waited for his shadow to do something, anything, to give him a reason or an explanation. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through his shadow’s head right now. It wasn’t even crying, this time. It just… stood there. _

_ “What are you doing here?” _

_ His shadow’s reaction was instant. It flinched like he’d struck it and turned around to face him with the deer-in-headlights expression he was now familiar with; it would never stop being uncanny seeing those emotions on his own face. “_ ** _Doc--!_ ** _” _

_ “What are you doing here?” he repeated. “It’s not safe. You know that,” he added in a strict tone. _

_ “_**_I-- I was--_**_” His shadow fumbled for words, tears already starting to sting at the corner of its eyes. Worried, Doc took a step forward. His shadow reacted by stumbling away. “_**_I’m not doing anything wrong! Please!_**"

_ “I’m not going to hurt you.” He needed to get it out of here. “How did you get here? Who let you in?” Was it Scar? No, there was no way Scar would allow Doc’s shadow to even come near Area 77, especially if Doc himself was on the premises. Neither would any other hermit. “Unless-- did you let yourself in?” _

_ His shadow backed up further and raised its arms over its head. “_**_Don’t-- don’t-- don’t come any closer! Please! Don’t hurt me!_**_” _

_ “I’m not going to hurt you!” Doc barked. His shadow flinched at the anger in his tone, and he immediately regretted it. He took another step, then another, arms out to try and placate the terrified mob in front of him. “Listen, it’s not safe here. Let’s go.” _

_ His shadow shook its head and kept backing away. Doc’s eyes widened in horror as it drew close to one of the contraptions; there was a worrying noise, like a high-pitched whine, coming from the redstone around them and under their feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the above-ground repeaters from a nearby mechanism start to spark. His shadow didn’t react, instead drawing in on itself and shutting its eyes as if he’d go away if it just didn’t look at him. The mantra started up, words repeating, a single phrase Doc had wished he’d never hear again, the same phrase he’d heard from the inside of the trap: _ ** _I don’t want to die_**_. _

_ It smelled like something was burning. Lines of redstone blazed white-hot, as if in response to his shadow’s rising panic; Doc froze, unable to do anything but watch as his shadow sank down to its knees and the noise got louder. _

_ With a crack like a gunshot, the repeater exploded in a shower of sparks. The overcharged signal raced along through the circuitry; as Doc watched in horror, the chain reaction spread, contraptions misfiring and malfunctioning before breaking down. One of the more intensive machines blasted apart, leaving a deep crater and a shockwave that Doc could feel in his bones as the ground shook. _

_ In the center of it all, oblivious to the destruction around it, was his shadow. _]

Doc stood in the same spot as in his memory, staring blankly at the wreckage he’d never bothered to patch up. It wasn’t the redstone that had malfunctioned. Not here, and not at Sahara. The Architechs seemed to think it was an accident, and it was-- just not the type of accident they were thinking of.

His shadow was a living redstone EMP.

The stories lined up: his shadow had been around complex redstone, had panicked, and suddenly it had all been destroyed. It was like his shadow was trying to protect itself: redstone was a threat, so it had evolved to break it. It raised a lot of questions, many of which Doc would’ve loved to get the answers to, but there was no way to investigate it with it being safe for both himself and his shadow.

What was he going to do with this information? Doc had no idea. His shadow, as much as it pained him to think, was _ dangerous_. What would happen if it panicked again? It’d been lucky that no one had been in Sahara… but, no, the Architechs had been there. Iskall had gotten badly injured, even if he had been downplaying it. What would happen if it panicked at Mumbo’s base, or somewhere where there were a lot of hermits? Sure, death was never permanent, but the omen of a potential disaster weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Doc tore himself away from the sight. His shadow wasn’t here. Surely, after Sahara, it must have had the same realization he was having now. He doubted it would be on the main island, or near Hermitland-- too much redstone, too many people. That left his options rather vague. He’d just have to fly around and see if he could catch a glimpse of his shadow… or, potentially, any more craters.

It wasn’t long before his search took him to the New Village. Doc glided over it a few times, admiring the large skeleton Bdubbs had constructed, before a voice rang out from below. “HEY! This is a no-fly zone!”

Oh, right. “Hi, Keralis,” Doc deadpanned as he dropped out of the sky to land near the gates. The wide-eyed man crossed his arms and tried to look mad; Doc cut him off before Keralis could get a word in. “Have you seen my shadow around here?”

“Your shadow? Hmm…” Keralis tilted his head back. “It depends~”

“I’m not fueling your RUN addiction, Keralis.”

“What?! No! Why would I ever be using my diamonds for that?” Keralis gave him an offended look. Doc didn’t budge. After far too long a standoff, Keralis sighed and relented. “Okay, okay. I saw Shadoc run in and hide in the blacksmith’s. I don’t think he wants to see you, though!”

Doc raised his eyebrows. “Shadoc..?”

“You know, like Shadow Doc! He’s your shadow!” He’d forgotten that Keralis was a serial nicknamer. Doc couldn’t fault him, in this instance; he’d never had a name to address his shadow by, and if it had a name it preferred it hadn’t told anyone. Naming your shadow was still unusual, but Joekills-- er, Killjoy-- had started a trend. “Are you sure you’re not going to pay me…?”

Doc sighed, felt around in his inventory, and threw a diamond over Keralis’s head. The other hermit gave him an unimpressed look. “...Welp, gotta go. Bye.”

It took him a bit to find where the blacksmith’s was. Even then, Doc passed by it several times before finally spotting yellow particles. His shadow-- Shadoc-- had its head on its knees; the flickering light from a nearby blast furnace cast dancing shadows that the mob blended into save for the glowing lines on its arm. Doc lingered, hesitant. Keralis was right: there was no way his shadow would want to see him. No doubt it was terrified that he was going to kill it, or imprison it again, or worse.

Doc knocked on the wall. Shadoc jolted upright and looked around; Doc held his breath and stepped out into view as those glowing yellow eyes settled on him. There it was: that deer-in-headlights expression as Shadoc locked up. Doc held up his hands and looked away, unable to meet his shadow’s gaze.

“We…” His voice cracked, making him sound far too much like the shadow in front of him. He tried it again, forced out the words, unsure of when he would get another chance. “We need to talk.”


	2. defuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I DID IT
> 
> there's... not really any angst in this one! i mean it gets kinda sad but... things end up okay. probably the best they could be considering the situation. this is something i wanted to write since "how to kill a shadow" and im just glad to have these two like... Try to reconcile.
> 
> i dunno when ill next write a fic bc i honestly need to take a break? i realized not long after starting this chapter that i was kind of actually in the middle of a manic episode, so im trying to pace myself better so i dont like... explode. i hope it was worth the wait tho

“_We need to talk._”

Doc’s words hung in the air, ringing in their ears. Shadoc didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. It was like his shadow had been turned to stone, with the only movement being the yellow particles around it. It was easy, in this moment, to forget that it was alive. It was easy, in this moment, to forget that he was dealing with a mob that was both incredibly dangerous and incredibly afraid.

Doc didn’t forget. Doc _ couldn’t _ forget. Doc hadn’t been able to forget ever since he’d broken through the obsidian wall and seen his shadow crying and begging for the constant death to stop.

He sat down across from it and crossed his arms on top of his knees in a perfect mirror of his shadow’s pose. Shadoc’s eyes tracked his movements the whole time, unblinking. He tried to not let it get to him. No doubt his shadow was analysing him to find a warning, a tell, anything that would scream _ danger _ and be an incentive for it to flee. But… it hadn’t run yet. It could have melted into the darkness the instant Doc had announced his presence, or any moment since then. If Shadoc wanted to escape, Doc was powerless to stop or catch it. It had to know this by now, surely.

The look on his shadow’s face, though, gave him pause. The frozen-fear expression had changed as soon as he sat down. Now his shadow looked… defeated. No-- more like it had known this was coming. Like it was ready to accept whatever he was going to do to it.

“There’s not any redstone here,” Doc said in a measured tone. His shadow flinched. “No redstone, no traps.” He paused. “...Nothing for you to break.”

The light of the setting sun spilled down over the blacksmith’s, illuminating Doc in a soft halo. Shadoc was caught in his shadow as it stretched across the ground towards it; he couldn’t help but give a wry smirk at the concept. In the dark corner, the only thing allowing him to make out Shadoc’s shape was the thin glowing lines on its face, neck, and arm. He glanced at the corresponding pattern on his own robotic arm and flexed his fingers; when he looked back up, he saw that Shadoc was now staring down at itself with that same melancholic expression it had taken on when he’d sat down.

“**I didn’t mean to.**” Shadoc’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I know.” Doc shook his head. “They don’t know you did it. They think Grian fried a circuit, or something like that.” His shadow barely showed any indication that it had heard him. Doc waited, drumming his fingers on his knees; he needed to be careful with this, needed to keep things calm, needed to take it slow before the moment was lost forever.

Shadoc closed its eyes and nodded. It was an awkward motion: sharp, jerky, unnatural. “**But it… it wasn’t him,** ” it said. “ **I… did something… and now Sahara’s-- gone.**” Each word was stilted as it struggled to speak. “**I didn’t mean to… I just, I, I thought--**”

It scrunched up into as small a form as possible. Doc watched, holding still, hardly daring to move. How was he going to deal with this? He had no idea. It wasn’t like he knew how to comfort a shadow, especially not one that was terrified of him. What if he made the wrong move and made things even worse? What if he damaged things beyond repair? ...Then again, he already had. There wasn’t anything he could do that wouldn’t be worse than what he already had.

“The Architechs were wondering where you are,” he spoke up. Shadoc stiffened. “Especially Mumbo’s shadow.” He chose his words carefully. “They’re going to want to know what happened, you know that, right?”

A shaky exhale. “**I-- I ** ** _can’t_ ** ** tell them. They’ll-- I’ll--**” It shook its head vigorously, fingers digging tight into where it was gripping its arms. “**Don’t… you can’t... Don’t tell them.**”

“About what? Sahara?” Doc narrowed his eyes. “I _ have _ to. You destroyed _ months _ of work without even trying. Mumbo, Grian, and Iskall put so much into it-- _ they deserve to know_. The hermits _ need _ to know what you’re capable of. They have to know you’re--”

The word caught in his throat and he choked it back down, but it was too late. Shadoc finished his sentence for him:

“**Dangerous.**”

Doc leaned his head back and slouched against the wall. He could feel Shadoc’s eyes burning into him; it made him shiver, but he stifled the reflex. “You know why I’m saying that, though.” He tilted his head back down just enough to see the shift in his shadow’s expression-- defeat spiking back up into fear as he hit the weakpoint. “I don’t know where this power of yours came from, but-- what happens next time?” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he crossed the distance between them by even the tiniest fraction. Shadoc responded by pressing up against the wall behind him; his shape blurred, getting fuzzy around the edges, as he started to sink into the darkness. “What happens the next time you get scared? Who gets hurt then?”

Shadoc’s mouth moved wordlessly. It reminded Doc a bit of Mumbo’s shadow-- almost always silent, save for some unexpected phrases and short words. 

“You have to understand,” he pressed, “they’re my _ friends_.” His shadow flinched, tears brimming in its eyes. He stood his ground. “I can’t let them get hurt because of mistakes I made.”

If he strained his ears, he could hear a high-pitched noise on the very edge of his range of hearing: a wavering hum, like an overstressed motor, that caused his head to throb if he focused on it. The glittering particles around his shadow jittered in erratic patterns; too late, Doc realized his latest mistake.

His earlier assessment proved correct, though: there was no redstone in range. There was no smell of burning, no shower of sparks, no sudden explosions, nothing responding to his shadow’s heightened emotions. Shadoc gritted his teeth as he struggled to push through the fear; it reminded Doc of a rubber band pulled too tight, like it was about to snap, before the humming died away and the glitchy lights surrounding it faded back to drifting about normally like little snowflakes. _ It’s trying_, Doc realized. It was trying to stay in control of itself, trying to prove something-- although it may have been more trying to prove something to itself, rather than to him.

“**They’re…** ” Shadoc squeezed its eyes shut tight. “**They’re** ** _ my_ ** ** friends, too.**”

Doc was taken aback. In theory, there was no way he should be surprised; he’d seen Shadoc lingering around the other hermits, especially the Architechs, but… But he’d assumed it to just be out of necessity, or because it was friends with Mumbo’s shadow, which never left its summoner alone if it could help it. Hearing his shadow admit that he considered some of the hermits as _ friends _, like he did, meant that now he was the one speechless.

How much had he missed out on? He’d never asked about his shadow, had never engaged in any conversation about it, had never made any effort to learn anything about it. It wasn’t like he was trying to pretend his shadow didn’t exist; everything reminded him of it, including catching unexpected glimpses of himself in a reflective surface. He’d assumed it was for the best, though, if he just… didn’t get involved.

Doc didn’t know his shadow at all.

Shadoc’s eyes met his. “**I didn’t ** ** _want_ ** ** this,**” it whined. "**I just… I just wanted it to stop, and-- and then it did, but…**” It loosened its deathgrip on its arms only to run its hands through its hair, framing its face with its arms. “**I didn’t mean it to-- to be like this. To be like ** ** _this_****.**”

Glittering yellow tears rolled down its face and Doc felt a stab of pity. Two sides of him went to war: one half reminding him what he was dealing with, the devastation he’d seen, what danger could be around the corner, and the other half wanting to leave, wanting to just walk away and message Mumbo and Iskall and go back to Area 77 and stop cornering his shadow like this, having trouble with the idea that his shadow could be a threat to anyone at all.

Treating his shadow like a bomb ready to detonate at the slightest touch wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Not when his shadow was surely seeing itself the same way.

“I know,” Doc said in a gentle voice. Shadoc hid its face as, carefully, he moved closer. He didn’t dare to get too close, but… this was maybe the closest he’s physically been to his shadow since the incident at Area 77. Up until now, every sighting of his shadow had been from a distance. “You don’t _ want _ to hurt anyone. But--”

“**No, you-- you don’t understand,**” his shadow choked out. “**It’s not just… that… it’s… I didn’t mean… I…**” Doc paused. His shadow took a deep breath that did little to steady itself or stop its voice from shaking so hard. “**When I was… when you were… all I could-- all I was thinking-- was that I… I wanted it to stop, I didn’t want to die anymore, and… and I was thinking that at Area 77. I was… I was thinking that at Sahara.**”

“I _ don’t _understand,” Doc said with a frown. “Unless… wait, is this about your… power?”

He’d said it himself, hadn’t he? That it had been like his shadow had evolved to destroy the redstone that posed a threat to it. His heart sank. If he was understanding Shadoc correctly, then… his assumption had been more correct than he’d realized.

Shadoc confirmed his fears with a stilted nod. “**When we… when a shadow dies, we-- we get stronger,**” it said in a small voice. “**We learn, we evolve, to… to be better. To fight better. To kill better.**” Doc had to strain to hear as his shadow kept talking. “**But I didn’t want that. I wanted it to stop… N- No, I-- I wanted to--**” What it said next was obscured by sobs. Doc couldn’t do anything but wait; he wanted to grab his shadow, ask it to speak up, but kept his hands still to stop himself from crossing the unspoken boundary.

“Wanted to _ what_?” he pressed.

His shadow’s reply was broken up enough that he had to piece it together in his head: “**I wanted to destroy it. All of it. I couldn’t escape, so I… so I wanted to break all of it, so it would stop.**”

The tear-streaked smile on its face looked pained. “**And… and I did.**”

Doc sat in silence. The only sound around him was the quiet crying of his shadow; if he listened, he could hear what might’ve been Keralis or Bdubs off elsewhere in the village, or maybe a hostile mob wandering around. Thoughts swirled around inside his head like a whirlpool ready to drag him down.

_ He’d done this_.

He’d pushed his shadow far beyond its breaking point, and now everyone was having to deal with the consequences. Doc thought about Stress, who hadn’t even wanted anything to do with the shadows until he’d arrived on her doorstep in distress because he hadn’t been able to think of anyone else that could calm his shadow down. Doc thought about the looks on everyone’s faces as he’d gotten Xisuma to call a meeting and explained what he’d discovered. Doc thought about the wreckage of Sahara, visible even from the air, and how hard the Architechs had worked to get it even remotely operational only for it to be annihilated in an instant. Doc thought about Iskall, injured but still worried about the shadow enough to call Doc over and tell him it had been in danger without even making the realization that it was the reason he’d gotten hurt in the first place.

Doc thought about the shadow in front of him, whose first words had been telling him it didn’t want to die anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

Shadoc’s sobbing abruptly stopped. It looked up at him, eyes wide, like it could hardly believe what it had heard. The look pierced through him as if it had used his own trident against him. “**...what?**”

“I said, ‘I’m sorry’.” Doc shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “This isn’t your fault. Sahara’s not your fault, your powers are not your fault, _ none of this is your fault_.” He stood up to tower over his shadow; it looked up at him, not understanding, or maybe just unwilling to try and understand in the first place. “The Architechs know that too. You know what’ll happen when I tell them? Mumbo will fall over himself apologizing for being such a spoon, Iskall might get a bit mad but he’ll mostly be mad at Mumbo, Mumbo’s shadow will feel bad and try to make it up to you, and none of them will let you around redstone ever again because they don’t want you to hurt yourself. Because…”

He hesitated, remembering what it said. “...because they’re your friends.”

Doc held out a hand. “I know I can’t undo this,” he said. “I can help rebuild Sahara, I guess, but… I don’t know how to help _ you _. That’s why I went and got Stress. But I’ve been letting you fend for yourself on your own and not even doing anything to help.” He felt his own eyes start stinging, and shook it off. “After what happened at Area 77, I thought it was a freak accident and didn’t think too much about it when instead I should’ve been finding a way to help you control it. So… I’m here now. If you don’t want me to be here, okay, I’ll leave and you won’t have to be around me ever again. But at least let me talk to the Architechs--”

“**No,**” Shadoc snapped. Doc withdrew his hand. “**No, I-- I mean--**” It stared down at the ground, then got to its feet. “**I-- I don’t… I don’t feel… safe, about it, but...**” It looked up, eyes shining with worry. “**...they… won’t try to kill me…?**”

“The only one that can kill you is me,” Doc reminded it. He internally smacked himself at the look on its face. “--and I don’t plan to ever, _ ever_, kill you again. Not even if you blow up the whole island. Not even if I was promised all of the diamonds on the server. I _ promise_.”

He extended his hand again. “You don’t have to believe me about anything else, but_ trust me _that the Architechs won’t hurt you. Besides, I’m sure Mumbo’s shadow will have something to say to anyone that tries.” He chuckled at the mental image. Anyone that assumed Mumbo’s shadow was harmless because its summoner was useless was sure to be swiftly corrected. He’d been on the receiving end of that himself once already.

Shadoc looked at his hand with an unreadable expression. Doc kept it held out. Slowly, like it was expecting it to bite it, his shadow lifted its own hand and grasped his. The contact surprised him; he flinched a little, and Shadoc started to draw back, before setting its face into a determined look and moving closer.

It was the closest Doc had been to his shadow since the deathtrap. He froze in place, afraid to move in case that was what set it off. With slow, deliberate movements, Shadoc let go of his hand and spread its arms. When Doc didn’t recoil, it hugged him.

“**...thank you.**”

“For _ what_?”

Shadoc shrugged. “**Saying sorry. For… for promising. For not… for not hurting me anymore.**”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.” Being as gentle as he could, Doc rested a hand on Shadoc’s back. “I’m just being a decent person. Like I should’ve been from the start.”

Shadoc looked away. “**You didn’t know.**”

Doc snorted in response. “That’s an explanation for grabbing something unlabeled from the fridge and later learning that you ate someone else’s lunch, not--” He stopped himself before he could dig the memory back up. “Look, you’re allowed to be scared of me. You’re allowed to hate me, if you want to. You don’t have to pretend it’s fine just because we talked about our feelings once. Just… let me know what I can do to help.”

Shadoc withdrew. “**I don’t want to go back to Area 77,**” it said simply, holding its hands close to its chest.

“You don’t have to.” Doc frowned. “I’m not the type of guy to lock people up for no reason.”

(Elsewhere in the village, Keralis sneezed.)

“...Not anymore, anyway.” Doc put his hands in his pockets. “And even if I_ was_, I wouldn’t do that to you. End of story.” Shadoc’s smile was so small he almost missed it. His expression softened. “Where do you _ want _ to go?”

Shadoc avoided his gaze. “**I don’t… I don’t know,**” it admitted. “**I miss Murmur...**“ Mumbo’s shadow, Doc recalled. “**...are you sure they won’t be mad at me?**”

“Of course.” Doc chuckled despite himself. “It was only a matter of time before Grian blew the place sky-high anyway, you just did it _ for _ him. He just might be disappointed he didn’t get to do it himself.”

He’d never heard his shadow laugh before. It wasn’t very much like his own-- or, rather, it _ did _ sound like him, but it was quieter, more restrained, like everything else about his shadow. He had the feeling that it wasn’t so much as if he’d said something funny as it was that Shadoc was just relieved to not have that anvil dangling over its head anymore. Being careful to not scare it, Doc reached out and rested his hand on its arm. It flinched at the contact, but settled down and leaned into the touch.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s let the Architechs know you’re here.”

Mumbo was the first to arrive, followed by Iskall. Next came Grian, and then finally Mumbo’s shadow (delayed by not having access to elytra like the hermits) announced its presence by running over at top speed and grabbing Shadoc by the shoulders. The timid shadow yelped, but the tears that started back up were of happiness and relief. The Architechs crowded around it, asking questions, before Murmur got the trio of hermits to back off and give Shadoc some breathing room.

Doc stood out of sight behind a nearby building as they talked. He could hear the unsteady cadence of his shadow’s voice as it explained what had happened; he frowned as he heard Shadoc skirt around the subject of _ what _ had caused the explosion, and the Architechs wave off its apologies without even considering that there was genuine guilt behind Shadoc’s words, but he couldn’t blame them. If Shadoc didn’t want to open up about it yet, then… that was fine, he supposed. The thought of going behind his shadow’s back came to mind, but the last thing he wanted to do was break its trust when it was only just offering it to him.

He tilted his head back to stare up at the sky. Night had fallen, although for once he couldn’t see a phantom circling overhead; he’d slept just before getting the message to come to Sahara, and by the look of things the Architechs hadn’t brought any with them. The cloudy skies looked like they were threatening to rain, which would’ve been thematically appropriate if not also extremely annoying.

He sighed and closed his eyes as he stood there, motionless. The image of his shadow in the deathtrap burned into his mind was replaced by the fragile smile it had given him when he’d reassured it, the sound of its desperate begging replaced by its soft laughter. This was a start. His shadow would never be the same, and Doc would never know what his shadow may have evolved into under ordinary circumstances, but there no was no point in focusing on it. He’d just have to take it slow, and wait, and see what he could do.

The flickering shadow cast onto the wall behind him by lantern-light shifted. The back of Doc’s neck prickled and he glanced over his shoulder; a pair of yellow eyes opened, yellow lines fading in and breaking up the flat grey, then the shadow moved, a head emerging as the mob stepped out from where it had been hiding. Shadoc gave him an awkward smile. “**Sorry, I didn’t… want to disturb you…**”

“So you sneaked up on me instead,” Doc snarked. Shadoc wilted, and he shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Where’s the Architechs?”

“**Waiting. I… I told them I needed to… do something first.**”

Doc raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“**Talk to you.** ” Shadoc bit at his lower lip. It was a gesture entirely unfamiliar to him, and he couldn’t help but stare; his shadow had likely picked it up from one of the other hermits it spent time with, but any of its behaviours that weren’t echoes of his own felt surreal. “**I’m sorry, I didn’t tell them…**”

Doc sighed through his teeth. “You’ll have to, eventually,” he reminded it. “They deserve to know.”

“**I know.**” Shadoc leaned back against the wall. It started to blend back in with his shadow, form becoming insubstantial and blurred around the edges; Doc wondered what would happen if he shoved it, but decided not to test it. That would be rude, and also probably undo all of the work he’d just done. “**But… they were-- worried, and I…**”

He shook his head again and held up a hand to stop it. “Can you promise me something?” Shadoc froze, and he was certain he wouldn’t get a response; after a long pause, his shadow nodded. “If this happens again… if you lose control again… you _ have _ to tell them. Okay? If you don’t, I will.”

“**...Okay.**” Their eyes met. Shadoc managed a brave smile. “**I, uh, I… I should go now… um… thank you, Doc.**” It turned to vanish back into the wall, then hesitated and reformed enough to extend a hand. Doc took it and hoped his shadow wasn’t about to try and drag him into the wall. “**I’ll… I’ll see you later.**”

“You will?” He couldn’t keep the bewildered tone out of his voice. “I mean, uh-- sure. Sure, yeah. See you around, Shadoc.”

Shadoc let go and vanished into his shadow. Doc watched as his shadow split, a copy with glowing yellow eyes standing next to the one that wasn’t secretly a mob; he waved, and Shadoc copied the gesture before darting out of sight back around the building where the Architechs were waiting. Doc’s waving slowed, then he lowered his arm and stared at the lifeless silhouette left behind. He shrugged, watched as it followed the motion, then walked away before taking off into the sky.


End file.
